


The Chosen Path

by MiHnn



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 04:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiHnn/pseuds/MiHnn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viserys successfully steals the eggs from his sister.  - AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chosen Path

It had taken days of riding on horseback for Viserys to reach the closest rodent invest colony. It was a filthy, vile town with questionably moral characters, but considering the fact that the true Prince of the Seven Kingdoms was riding a filthier, viler animal that never did what was instructed, he found the place he had stumbled upon lesser of the two evils. The moment he dismounted, he sold the wretched thing he rode for one silver and six copper pieces. Having no coin to his name was excessively wearisome and Viserys knew in his heart of hearts that he would be successful in his endeavour; to finally be able to wash the Dothraki off his skin was something he could not contain his excitement for. 

After a hot meal where he consumed a disgusting broth and a quick wash in a poor excuse of a bath, it took handing one copper piece slyly to the stinking inn keeper for Viserys to be shown the directions to the one man closest who might know a slave owner. Viserys took with him the chest with his precious cargo , not trusting the inn keeper not to rifle through his belongs once he had stepped away to follow in his search. 

Bo Krum was a hefty man with a heftier chin. His gait was large while his humour and sense of decency was obviously lacking. This was something Viserys noted the moment the oaf failed to offer him a seat in welcome. Once he takes his rightful place on the Iron Throne, he promised himself that he would return in all his glory to punish the fat one’s insolence. But for now, as distasteful as it was, Viserys needed him. 

“I need an army.”

Bo Krum glanced at him disdainfully before picking up a plum with two plump fingers and tearing into it with yellow teeth. He swallowed noisily then sucked on his fingers one by one. “I am able to get you slaves, but not an army.”

Tongue in cheek, Viserys tried not to begin an argument with the only man who could give him what he needed. “Once you armour them, they will _be_ an army.”

Bo Krum licked his lips. “But I have nothing to arm them with.”

Teeth gritted in anger, Viserys hissed, “Then get some weapons and hand them to the slaves.”

The larger man laughed, his big belly shaking uncontrollably with every loud chuckle. “We cannot provide slaves with weapons. They would kill us all.”

Sighing, Viserys leaned back while adopting a deadly tone of voice. “How much would it cost me to buy slaves and armour them?”

Bo Krum took this opportunity to take another plum, seemingly unconcerned with the conversation that was occurring. “More than a beggar Prince could afford.”

Viserys bristled. It did not surprise him that such a filthy peasant knew who he was. Very few traders, even those beyond the Narrow Sea, did not know a member of dragon’s blood once their eyes had fallen on pale blonde hair. But he was surprised that the peasant would insult him so brazenly. “I’ll have you know that I am no longer a beggar.”

Bo Krum took a large bite of the plum and swallowed. 

The peasant’s lack of interest angered Viserys further. “I have, in my possession, three Dragon’s eggs which will gladly fetch me an army, a boat and so much more; so I would suggest that you watch that tongue of yours before I see it fit to confiscate it.”

At the mention of the Dragon’s eggs, Bo Krum’s eyes widened and he stopped mid-chew. “Dragon’s eggs?” he questioned reverently. Immediately his eyes fell on the chest Viserys had brought with him and for the first time, his eyes brightened with recognition. 

Satisfied that he had finally gotten the attention of the disgusting merchant, Viserys smirked. “Yes, Dragon’s eggs. Very rare and very valuable.”

Placing down his half eaten plum, Bo Krum frowned thoughtfully. “You shall have your army…for two Dragon’s eggs.”

Viserys glared. The art of bargaining; how very droll. “ _One_ Dragon egg and no more. And you find the weapons and armour.”

The trader sneered, his eyes still on the chest while he looked upon it with utmost want. “You drive a hard bargain, My Prince.”

Viserys smiled at the title he was addressed at. It was surely past time when the peasant was meant to show some sort of respect towards his birth right. 

“I shall get them ready in a fortnight.”

The smile that played on Viserys’ lips dropped. “A week,” he insisted. That was one thing he had learned from his father before he was brutally murdered: never give away the position of power. His tone seemed appropriate when Bo Krum’s internal battle ended with Viserys’ victory. 

“Yes, My Prince. You shall have your army in a week.”

Viserys grinned. “There now, that wasn’t too hard, was it?”

The trader didn’t say a word, a deep frown marring his features.

Satisfied with his first successful bargaining agreement, Viserys stood up swiftly. “Until next week!” Excited with the prospect of finally getting what he had always wanted, he turned on his heel to leave, taking his precious eggs with him.

Now that he had been successful in acquiring an army, a boat would be the next item to purchase. Once he had both elements, he would finally be able to return home as the conquering hero and take his rightful place on the Iron Throne. His father would have been proud of his many achievem-

Viserys did not feel the cold steel move across his neck, from ear to ear, until it was too late. He chocked as he felt the warmth of his blood spurt through his parted lips. He dropped to his knees in surprise, the thought that he was about to leave this life hardly passing through his mind. 

That scoundrel! That peasant! He betrayed him. How dare he? How dare _he_! 

The last thought that sifted through his mind, just before he drew his last breath, was that he would ensure that the cowards who did this to him would feel the way he currently felt. 

He would make them suffer. He would make them _all_ suffer.


End file.
